Escape
Transported in the majestic opera houses of Argentina and Brazil
At the turn of the century, the wealthy towns in South America didn’t want great music and culture to be Europe’s exclusive preserve. So like the United States before them, they founded orchestras and built opera houses and theatres. And how! The Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires and Teatro Municipal in Rio are some of the most opulent theatres I have ever visited. They built them in surprising places too – like Manaus, in the middle of the Amazon.
The Argentinians and Brazilians are rightly proud of these institutions. Visiting them gives you an insight into what life for the wealthy was like in the 19th and early 20th centuries. For a start, they were built big. Colón seats 2,478 and the Rio de Janeiro Teatro Municipal 2,244, compared to 2,256 at the Royal Opera House in London. Going to the opera wasn’t just for a small group of music-lovers. It was an essential element in the social life of the city, and today you can witness the social mores of the times literally built into the Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires.
At the turn of the century, widows were obliged to respect a strict period of mourning – often for years after their husband’s death – during which time they were not allowed in public outside the home. To enable them to still hear some music, the Teatro Colón has 8 “widows’ boxes”, built into the walls at the side of the stalls, from where they could witness the performances from behind a screen without being seen. Typically escorted by a sister or family member, they would arrive and leave by the back door, hidden from the audience at the front.
By contrast, everyone else would go to the opera to be seen. Wealthy socialites would meet in the incredibly opulent Golden Hall, modelled on Versailles, and those with cheaper tickets would meet in other areas, having entered using different entrances.
Today, it’s not just a glorious well-restored building – it is thankfully still alive with music. The theatre regularly welcomes top-level artists. Argentina has spawned many world-class musicians (Martha Argerich and Daniel Barenboim to name but two) for whom the engine of musical life around Colón was a central part of their upbringing. Looking around as a tourist, it has been very moving for me to think that my father conducted here on tour in the 1960s. When I was a child, he told me all about what a special place it is.
Sadly, there were no performances while I was in Buenos Aires, as they were rehearsing a new production of Magic Flute. However when I was in Rio, the Petrobras Symphony Orchestra was playing at the Teatro Municipal. I confess that looking at the listings I was bemused by the name – this used to be the Pró Música Orchestra – but I thought I’d give it a try. (I guess the name does tie the Brazilian oil and gas company into continuing its financial support, but it would be a very sad day to see the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra renamed the Shell Symphony Orchestra!)
The glamorous Teatro Municipal’s lights twinkled as the sun went down, and the concert-going crowd felt friendly and very similar to any concert-going audience in the world. As for the performance, what the band lacked in technical finesse was more than made up for by the sheer enthusiasm of the players.
But that was as nothing compared to the enthusiasm of the audience! After listening attentively, at the end of every piece Beatlemania would overcome them. Instantly on their feet before the last note had even died away, there would be wild applause, choruses of Bravo! and loud whistling.
So I had a wildly entertaining evening in Rio – entertained as much by the audience reaction as by the music. Were they always like this in South America, I wonder? Who knows. But I’d like to think that in these glamorous venues dotted across the continent, early 20th century audiences could escape the social norms of the day and their constrained lives, and be transported by the music and excitement of the performance. Just like the audience in Rio today. BRAVOOOOO!!!
